he do the police in different voices.

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yes, they wanted us to be able to.

As an indicator of how remarkable this recent public coronation has been, you can now buy Obama T-shirts in the Midtown tourist stores, right next to the I ♥ New York shot glasses, miniature glass Empire State Buildings and yellow cab keychains. Now even the tourists want to bring home a souvenir of this remarkable event.

Although: I am starting to worry that our projection of goodness onto our next leader (and C-in-C, as we were constantly reminded with 43) is swerving into a Riefenstahlian direction. This adjective, paired with "obama," is already scoring 170 results on the Google. It's not quite yet on par with the descent from an aircraft (Junkers 52 or Lockheed S-3B Viking), but I doff my hat to this kind of impressive media machinery, especially if it touches the folks who aren't smarter than a fifth grader.

How fitting, then, that a recent ESPN commercial celebrates Mondays by railing against your institution's "'fascist attendance policy'." There is no ironicon yet to punctuate the previous sentence.

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overtaken by events.

OBE'd again. Optics are going to be the decisive factor, after all. Fox Business insists: "we own this story." Meantime, the antes are upped with "what the flock" and "the most advanced technology you'll ever pee on" in the consumer information clips. This as statistics show that the average American household has 27 electric devices running at any given time and 42% of teenagers claim they can text while blindfolded.

Speaking of which, how is it possible that the human brain still allows for "blindfolded speed cubing" (round and round the Rubik's cube in about two minutes flat) while stupidity is making a serious comeback? It looks like the pigeons are onto us -- they have become more and more aggressive in their flight patterns around humans.

This week's "now more than ever" platitude-watch winner is the Kia ("Napels zien en dan...") 'Sorrento!'.

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words are the semaphores, the grand flags of communication.

Let your reality be imposed upon me. Some climate updates from the frogboiler; or, the torpor report, depending on your mixed-meteorological preferences for metaphors of body temperatures. My cultural stupor was briefly disturbed by the following, as a general sense of apprehension encroaches and a smug inability to understand begins to envelop us all:

The term Earth Browser.

A veteran of foreign wars peddling a "thirty-dollar" vinyl album (Buckingham Nicks) for the asking price of "5 dollars" on the street.

My local paper describing a party where wagyu beef has replaced truffles -- same cost, less ostentatious.

The lunchtime sight of a tie-less suit resolutely carrying a cardboard box with his office belongings towards Grand Central Terminal.

A graffiti tag on a wall on 3rd Avenue in Kips Bay: rumspringa. At least some Amish punks are still at it.

FTW: Nicholas Fehn, the person of our age.

The spam headers "please, respond me" and "get a professional sized pecker now."

My embrace of twitter, despite my vehement reservations.

The fact that Google receives a resume every 30 seconds (or about 20,000 per week).

"We seem to be experimenting some technological differences."

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hiatus suspended.

Quis custodiet ipsos custodes? Vero, spectabimus – given this trailer!




13 hours of video are uploaded to Youtube every minute.

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